


Sweet Garden of the Queen

by AbsinthexMind



Series: One-Shot Instagram Requests [7]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Arranged Marriage, Childhood, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Childhood Sweethearts, Crushes, F/M, First Crush, Gift Giving, Marriage, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:28:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24202099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsinthexMind/pseuds/AbsinthexMind
Summary: Instagram RequestChildhood crushes never truly leave your heart. Bittersweet but cherishable. Your childhood crush had just named you his bride. After the humiliation he faced during Robert's Rebellion, Rhaegar had to be on his best behavior and find a new wife who wasn't already betrothed. The Tyrells had always been firm supporters of the Targaryens. Thus it was appropriate to make a tighter bond with them through marriage to try and salvage his reputation.
Relationships: Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Rhaegar Targaryen/Reader
Series: One-Shot Instagram Requests [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696042
Comments: 2
Kudos: 96





	Sweet Garden of the Queen

You scrunch up your face in the mirror then cross your arms in front of your chest. “I don’t look much like a queen, grandmother.” 

The queen of thorns, Lady Olenna Tyrell, scoffs. “And what do you think a queen is supposed to look like?” 

“Definitely more mature, that’s for sure. I still look like a little girl. Rhaegar deserves a ground shattering beauty for his queen. Besides, it’s too soon after what he had to do in order to win the war.” 

Lady Olenna shakes her head. “Take this opportunity. You’re expecting too much from this union. You going to King’s Landing and Margaery off to Storm’s End once she’s of age is quite the accomplishment despite the scandal surrounding it.” 

Taking off your ceremonial wedding tiara, you place the rose gold circlet back into its velvet laced box. 

“Rhaegar isn’t a fool despite him having acted like one for that Stark girl. He knows this is the best course after all that he caused.” She continues to tell you. 

Right now, you were the pride of High Garden. Rhaegar had deemed you agreeable enough to be his new bride. Your father always said that you being Rhaegar’s childhood playmate would pay off one day. That felt like centuries ago. You hadn’t personally seen him in several years. It would be nice to catch up with him, besides what he had been up to during Robert’s Rebellion. Everyone knew that. You would try to glaze over that most recent part of his life. You were sure he didn’t want to talk about it anytime soon. 

“Are you not happy? Granted his image has taken a definite plummet from the whole Stark girl debacle-” 

“Can you please not bring it up tonight? Just wait until tomorrow. I just want this evening to go by without any problems.” Pleading, you close the top of the tiara box with a resound snap. “Just for tonight, then you can be a crass old woman.” 

That made her laugh. Many people were scared of the silver tongued Queen of Thorns, even your brothers; but you and Margaery were able to handle her feisty personality and out wit her sharp tongue. “Oh dear one, you worry too much. I will not embarrass you in front of your maidenhood crush.” 

You were able to smoothly hide your blush. Visiting King’s Landing and Rhaegar was something you looked forward to as a child. Playing in the Red Keep, pretending to be past Targaryen rulers; venturing to the King’s Woods and wandering down to the creek where you listened to him play the harp. 

His own personal playmate from a very young age up until you turned ten and two. Around the same time King Aerys started to show signs of madness. It scared your father who quickly pulled you out of King’s Landing, never to go back again. 

Like any child at that age, you didn’t understand why your father wouldn’t let you see Rhaegar again. It was heartbreaking for a young girl in love. 

A creak from Olenna’s chair as she gets up makes you turn to face her. Face wisened from years of dealing with incompetent men, you were always prepared to heed Olenna’s sage advice. You hoped to be like your grandmother some day. “Don’t let him blind you. We have seen already the mistakes he is able to make. Once you become queen, I expect you to put him in his place. Make sure this Rebellion mess doesn’t happen again. Thank goodness Lord Arryn was able to persuade Robert Baratheon not to advance forward. With Lyanna Stark finally growing a brain and turning herself in, Rhaegar was able to prevent his own demise.” 

“I know.” 

“You’re not a little girl anymore. Don’t let roses grow in your vision and cloud your judgement. You’re a smart girl (y/n). It would be a shame to see you become a fool just because of Rhaegar Targaryen.” 

“Oh grandmother don’t scare her.” Came Willas as he hobbled in, a pleasant smile on his face as he looked to the tiara box then to you. Rich eyes crinkle and come to life. 

“This is a good thing. My little sister, a queen. Who would have thought that a Tyrell would birth the future king of Westeros.” 

Rolling her eyes she addresses her beloved grandson and your eldest brother. “Yes, and hopefully her children will be nothing like the father.” 

Still smiling, Willas uses his walking stick to advance further into your room. Being crippled didn’t change Willas in the least bit. He was still the same sweet brother as ever. 

You had been in King’s Landing when he had his accident. “It’s all in the past, grandmother. Rhaegar has seen the error of his ways and was able to fix everything.” 

“You’re far too kind, Willas. Thank goodness it’s not you marrying him. Otherwise you’d turn a blind eye to everything he did.” 

“Okay okay. I need to be alone now and get ready.” You were quick to end the conversation. Nothing good would be accomplished. 

“Ah, but I have a gift for the bride to be. Oh well. Suppose I should give it to someone else.” Willas begins to walk back out. 

“Wait! A gift?” Your big brother had always been a wonderful gift giver. He was aware of this too and of your love of surprises. 

Willas held out his arm to you, both to escort you to your gift and so that you might help him walk. 

You kissed your grandmother’s cheek and off you went with your older brother.  
  
  


“Oh Willas! She’s beautiful!” In awe you stare at the beautiful hawk Willas held out for you. For being a female of her kind, this fine predator was a giant. A curved beak that entailed to her preferred type of meal. Her feathers were scarlet, like the poppy flowers that lined your windowsill. 

Beady, intelligent eyes stare at you as she balances on Willas’ glove. “Isn’t she?” He dotes on her proudly. “She hatched about a year ago and I knew that she had to be your’s. Perfect timing too. I present to you, your wedding present.” 

Willas had a talent for breeding exceptional hawks, but she took the cake. You held out your own gloved arm, making the hawk tilt her head. Gently coaxing her over to you, the scarlet hawk took the hint and hopped over to you. She weighed heavy on your arm but you didn’t mind. You’d taken care of many of your brother’s hawks. 

“What will you name her?” Willas leans against the pillar outside of the mews where he kept the rest of his birds. 

You thought for a moment, looking over your beautiful gift. The scarlet hawk watched you diligently. “Indira?” 

By some sort of magic, she opens her mouth and let out a beautiful cry. 

You grin. “Indira it is. I hope Rhaegar lets me bring her.” 

“Who would be fool enough not to let this beautiful creature leave with you?” Your brother nods and looks out over the large stretch of land that surrounded the mews. After his accident, Willas had them build a new mews closer to the castle so that he could access it more easily. Not too far away were the stables where Willas also bred the finest horses in all of Westeros. “He won’t be able to say no once I give him his gift.” 

“The silver mare?” You wondered aloud. “Or is it the speckled one?” 

“No, for him I have Epiales.” He seemed reluctant about it. Epiales had been his favorite since the day he was born. A sleek, black horse with a pale blonde mane and tail. Hot-blooded and light on his feet, when Epiales ran he might as well have been like a storm. Dark and beautiful. Every lord and lady that came to visit High Garden would offer Willas large sums of money, just for Epiales. But Willas had declined all offers. Epiales was his pride and joy. 

Indira tugged at her restraints, flapping her red wings. Aware that she was already well-trained you release her and allow her to go hunt and explore. “Why would you do that Willas? You love Epiales.” 

His face became solemn as he watched Indira take flight. A smear of red across an otherwise pale blue sky. “It’s a good show of faith. I could only imagine how difficult a time it is for Rhaegar right now. He needs allies right now. Many are still upset with him and are probably not quick to forgive him. After all, he entertained a lady who was already betrothed to a high ranking lord. Threatened to steal her. Love makes fools of everyone but it’s not something that he should be punished for forever. He’s still young and naive after all. Besides, I have plenty of other horses. I know Rhaegar will appreciate Epiales.” 

Olenna was right. Willas was too kind for his own good. Had faith in someone he hardly knew. People could easily take advantage of your brother’s kind nature. 

Off in the distance, near the stables, you could make out the figure of your other brother Garlan. He waved at the two of you and promptly made his way over. “What are you two doing out here? They’ve spotted Rhaegar’s party. They’ll be here any minute.” He still wore his training attire, sword swinging from his hip. Sweat and dirt clung to him like a natural perfume. Garlan was happiest when on the training ground. His dreams of becoming a knight weren’t too far. Already he was proving to be better than many of the Tyrell house knights. The pride and joy of your father. 

Before addressing Garlan, Willas gave a sharp whistle; calling back Indira who was bound to hear him, even from so far away. “You’re one to talk. You should be getting ready. Look at you. Is that your blood or someone else’s on your vest?” 

Pulling at the fabric of his shirt, Garlan shrugs after a moment. “Who's to say. Besides, it’s not me who is marrying the King of the Seven Kingdoms.” Garlan cheekily grins at you and you cursed when you felt another blush heat your face. “That’s our little sister here.” 

You caught sight of Indira flying back to where the three of you stood. “I’m only younger than you by a year. And that doesn’t excuse you for not washing up.” 

“You sound like mother.” The second eldest son of Mace Tyrell comments, in which Willas laughs along in agreement. 

Lifting your arm up over your head to secure Indira’s landing, you notice Garlan flinching away from the massive predator bird. “Someone has to be on top of you. Mother is a bit occupied right now with our newborn sister.” 

Garlan scrunches his face while cautiously staring at your feathered gift. Of all the creatures Willas took care of, the hawks were Garlan’s least favorite. For someone who was to be a knight, he was afraid of them. Not that you could blame him. Indira’s beak could probably crack open a human skull if she so wished. Without your leather glove, her talons would have shred up your arm. She was definitely no canary. 

Joking the whole way back to the castle that was bustling with life, one scream from your septa and Garlan was running away to bathe himself before he earned himself a smack. 

Besides a large red feather sticking out of your (h/c) hair, you were ready. You had been preparing for this day for weeks. 

“Lady (y/n).” Your septa’s voice calls to you on the other side of your chamber door. 

It was time.

You give yourself one last look over in your mirror. A nervous little girl stared back at you with wide (e/c) eyes. A little girl who was finally marrying the boy she had fallen in love with.

Taking a deep breath you turn your doorknob and out you went; your stomach flopping in preparation. Would he still remember you? 

“You’re shaking. Are you cold?” Your septa inquires while escorting you down the corridors. Outside on the stone archway that led down to a spiral staircase, your heart leapt in your chest when you caught sight of the black and red banner of the Targaryen crest. He really was here. 

Anything but cold, you shake your head. “No. Just a little nervous. I haven’t seen Rhaegar since I was a child. What if he isn’t the boy I met all those years ago?” 

She shrugs. “Most likely he isn’t. That’s the thing about growing up. You change.” 

Wilting at her statement, you feel your nerves getting the best of you. You knew you weren’t exactly the same. You had grown and changed as well; but your core was still you. That hadn’t changed. You still loved to laugh like a carefree child and mess around with Garlan and little Loras, making fun of each other. You even still possessed the habit of kicking your shoes off when you saw a beautiful stream. There was nothing better than sticking your feet in the cool water and splashing about. Especially when you were in the company of Willas’ hounds. They enjoyed it as much as you did. 

“Remember (y/n), Rhaegar is a grown man. Not a little boy anymore. And you are a lady.” 

Fingers curling into the fabric of your dress as you made your nervous way through Highgarden’s beautiful castle and outside to the magnificent rose garden. Your house sigil wasn’t a rose for nothing. Highgarden bloomed the most exquisite flowers in all of the Seven Kingdoms. What better place for a reunion? 

You felt like you were blind though as you stumbled through the gardens that you had traveled through all of your life. Everything was different. You weren’t meeting your old childhood friend. You were meeting your future husband. The King of Westeros. 

Everything hit you at once and sunk your insides like a stone. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Your mother, Aleira Hightower, asked once you and your septa arrived. It appeared that Garlan was barely showing up as well as he was rushed into the garden by his own septa and servants. His curly locks were still wet from the bath he had just received. “She’s as white as a ghost.” Your pretty, cold, and distant mother was seated on the marble bench along with your father and Willas who couldn’t stand for too long before he grew weary. 

In her arms was your baby sister Margaery who was promptly gumming at her fingers. Her large brown eyes crinkled when she saw you. One of the servants was fixing little Loras’ hair as he tried to swat them away. 

“It’s her nerves, my lady.” The septa informed her. 

“Seeing her childhood sweetheart for the first time in years will do that.” Willas grins next to Mace Tyrell. 

Olenna sat on his other side of her son Mace on her own elegant white chair, hands folded in front of her with an air of impatience. You knew how much your grandmother hated to wait. At least in the garden she enjoyed the fresh air. Next to her leg was Loras as he tugged at her dress hem. “Grandma, when is the king getting here?” 

“Don’t tug, little lord.” Garlan gently scolds his younger brother and leads him away. “Or else she’ll eat you!” 

That earned him a pinch to his ear by the Queen of Thorns. “I can still hear, you know.” 

A house knight, off to the side, is joined by another who leans in to whisper something. He nods and announces to Lord Tyrell “The Targaryen party has just been welcomed into our gates. They are expected to be here in a few moments.” 

Sweating, Mace dabs at his forehead with a handkerchief. You didn’t know what made him sweat more, the bright sun above or Rhaegar Targaryen the new king of Westeros marrying his daughter. 

You felt just like your father did; drowning in your own sweat. 

“Chin up, (y/n).” Olenna reminds you to which you promptly adjust yourself. 

“Come closer. The future queen shouldn’t be standing off to the side with the help.” Aleira points out making your face burn as you once again reposition yourself so that you stood beside Garlan and Loras. 

Garlan offers you a small smile. “Deep breaths. All will be fine.” 

A shuddering breath slithers out of you. “You think so? I feel like I’m being suffocated to death.” 

“Well that could be because of that tight corset of your’s.” He shrugs. Perking up at the sound of multiple footsteps crunching along the gravel path. 

Hastily you whisper back “He wanted to marry Lyanna Stark. He must be disappointed with settling for me.” 

Chancing to look at you, Garlan whispers back as your mom fidgets with Margaery on her lap “(y/n), you’ll be fine. He’s not settling. He’s upgrading. Our family compared to the Starks? There shouldn’t be a question.” 

To you, that wasn’t what you were talking about. You were talking about the obvious love Rhaegar had for Lyanna. When asked, Willas told you what kind of person Lyanna was according to the few times he had seen her. That long Stark face with somber gray eyes which possessed their own kind of melancholy loveliness. Slim as a willow branch, even in her billowing winter furs. 

Rhaegar had risked war for this woman. A man didn’t do that so quickly unless he truly loved her. 

Red and black banner revealing them from above the rose bushes, your entire family tensed except for Olenna, Margaery and Loras. Men in gold armor and white cloaks streamed through the large arch that was the entrance of the Tyrell rose garden. As they filed out, they revealed Rhaegar Targaryen in black armor. The years had treated him well, making him more handsome than you remembered. Last you could recall, Rhaegar had been a scrawny young boy fond of books and music. This was a man. 

Those seated on the marble bench stand at his entrance. Mace was front and center. “Your Grace, welcome to Highgarden! It is my pleasure to host you and your entourage in my keep. Whatever you need, it will be done.” 

Rhaegar grins, purple eyes so vibrant that the roses around him closed up with shame. They could not compete. Not when the most beautiful person in the world was there. Compared to Rhaegar, your father was the size of a dwarf as the young king lumbered over him. 

Elegant in his movement, Rhaegar sweeps his red cloak back and kneels before Lord Mace; making the heavy lord turn red and sweat even more. “My thanks to you, Lord Tyrell, for continuing to support the crown even when all seemed to be lost. And eternal gratitude for allowing me the hand of your daughter.” His silver hair covers his face. Your fingers twitch, wanting to run them through his hair. You knew his tresses would be soft. 

His gaze lifts to meet you. And there you were completely lost. When he smiles, you could see the small indent of a dimple. “Hello (y/n).” 

“I’m (y/n).” 

Oh gods. . . 

You wished for the Stranger to strike you down. Next to you you heard Garlan trying to suppress his laugh. 

Rhaegar’s smile only widens. “And I am Rhaegar.” 

Squashing down your embarrassment you slowly go up to stand before him and hold out your hand as was custom for a proper lady. “It’s nice to see you again Rhaegar.” 

His face washed over with familiarity and relief, gaze softening. “It’s wonderful to see you too.” 

That little girl had never grown up. You felt the butterflies awaken and take flight.

  
  
  
  


“Your brother is sure he wants to give me such a wonderful gift?” Rhaegar asks you once again, still worried that it was too extravagant a gift. 

“He insists upon it.” You nod. After the great feast that your father had delivered to Rhaegar and his men, Rhaegar had asked you to show him around Highgarden. Specifically somewhere pretty where he could ride Epiales. The horse’s own hair resembled that of his new handler’s. They were a handsome couple. Rhaegar and Epiales. They looked much better together than he had with Willas. 

Patting your own mare on the next, Lada flicks her black tail in delight at the affection. A speckled mare that was as gentle as a lamb. Not wild at all like Epiales was. You weren’t a good rider so she was a perfect fit for you. 

Coming out of the woods, up ahead is a peaceful glade which you and Rhaegar dismount your horses to sit down and relax. Wild flowers grew on the outskirts of the glade, a multitude of shades of blue, orange, yellow, and red. It brought light to the area as the bent over trees threatened to block out the sun. 

Rhaegar sits down with a content sigh and lifts his head up to the sky. Despite the large trees, there were streams of sunlight that were able to break through to highlight his lovely features. High cheekbones, a perfectly sculpted nose, and full lips that were delightfully pink. 

“It’s so peaceful here in the Reach. So green and alive.” he sighs. “I wish I could have come here more often when we were younger.” 

Your fingers run through the grass surrounding you, enjoying how soft it was. “Yes. My brothers and I have made many memories here. Before Willas had his accident. Willas and Garlan would spar out here while I played with the hounds.” 

It was a shame Rhaegar never had a sibling close to his own age. Someone to grow up with and confide in like you did with your siblings. He was alone for a major portion of his childhood, before you came along. You had seen it when you had first met the young prince. He had been painfully alone and didn’t know what playtime was or how to even act like the child he was. 

In the grass, you and Rhaegar sat closely; so close that if you leaned an inch, your shoulder would be rubbing against his. “It’s a shame you didn’t bring your harp. It’s been years since I’ve heard you play.” 

Violet eyes glance down at the many blades of green, plucking them with his long fingers. “Actually. . . I haven’t had much time to play the harp.” Underlying his monotone words was regret and sadness that you were able to detect. That hadn’t changed. When Rhaegar was a child and had been upset, his voice would turn completely monotone as to not betray how he really felt. 

“I’m sorry. You played so beautifully. I know it must bother you not being able to play it.” 

Smiling sadly at you, his eyes are warm. “It does, but what’s done is done. I must move on to something better. Perhaps one day I can return to my harp, but not anytime soon.” 

Little sparrows flutter about, some landing on the ground to look for food. You watched them and smiled. “Remember when we would go to the King’s Woods? One time you were playing your harp and singing and happened to lure an audience of birds.” 

Rhaegar nods. “There were so many of them! And then I ruined it by laughing.” 

You giggle and out of a force of habit, you place your hand on his bicep; gently pushing him playfully. It makes Rhaegar smile even more. “What about when we ditched your septa to go play in the dungeons? She followed us and screamed when she opened the door to the Dragon Skull Keep.” 

“She turned so red! Oh that poor woman. It must have been such a fright when she found us in Balerion’s skull.” 

“You were the one who roared like some kind of she-beast.” Rhaegar happily pointed out. “That was what did it.” 

Shrugging, you don’t even notice how Rhaegar had scooted closer to you. Thighs touching, you recall out loud how after that your septa had pulled you out of the skull by your ear. Of course she dared not treat the crown prince in such a way. And there had been no need. Rhaegar was a polite child and came out of the skull after you. 

You felt alive being with your best friend again. Even Rhaegar was laughing and couldn’t stop smiling at the memories the two of you had made in King’s Landing. 

“I was always impatient when I knew you would be visiting.” he confessed, a bit embarrassed that that impatience made him less perfect in your eyes. “I’m pretty sure my mother was near to pulling her hair out from how many times I asked her when you would get there.” 

So it hadn’t been just you who had looked forward to those visits. How excited you would get on the road. You didn’t want to rest or stop. You wanted to get to Rhaegar as soon as possible. 

What once had been a bright blue sky was now dyed slowly with merigold hues and splashes of carnation pink. The hour was getting late and you and Rhaegar had to start heading back. 

Reluctantly the both of you collect your horses and head back to the castle. 

Not before stopping by the rose garden where Rhaegar had met your family earlier that day. 

“The roses of Highgarden are truly the best in all the Seven Kingdoms.” Commenting, Rhaegar brushes the petals of a pure white rose that was in full bloom. He passes by several different bushes while you deftly pluck a white rose that had a light tint of pink to it. 

You hold it up to Rhaegar’s surprised face and nod to yourself. “Yup. This one suits you, Your Grace. An otherwise white rose to passersby. Look carefully though, this bud holds much more color than at first expected.” The gentle pink ran along the edges of the petals and then on the bottom. 

Probably mistaken, you could have sworn you saw a light blush on Rhaegar’s cheeks as he takes the rose from your hand. In turn he faces the rose bushes, determined to find a rose to compare to you. 

Index finger prodding at his bottom lip, Rhaegar takes out a small blade to cut off a vibrant orange rose. “So bright and warm, just like you have always been. Even now I see that hasn’t faded. Today has been the first day in many years since I’ve laughed and smiled this hard.” 

Now you were definitely the one who was blushing as you accepted his rose. “I hope I can prove to be a good queen as well.” 

There’s a soft pull of your hand from Rhaegar. “You will. I know you will.” 

Paralyzed as he leans in for your lips, you let your eyelids fall and enjoy the caress of his breath before he goes in.  
**  
  


“Ew they’re kissing! Didn’t they just meet?! That’s so gross.” Loras wails atop of the archway that looked down to the garden. They were protected from view by the pergola below. The three Tyrell brothers saw all though. 

Willas quickly puts a hand over Loras’ mouth. Even though they couldn’t be seen, they could still be heard. “Hush Loras. You’ll understand when you’re older.” 

Gloomy and glaring Garlen merely crosses his arms and turns away from the scene. “If he hurts her. . . the gods won’t even help him for what I have planned. King or not. If he proves to be a scoundrel again, I’ll show him fire and blood.” 

“Have faith in our sister, Garlan.” Willas knocks shoulders with his brother. “That little rose has a sting to her. She’ll deal with Rhaegar if he proves unfaithful. She doesn’t need us to protect her anymore. (y/n)’s a full grown woman now.” 

Still. . . the truth was (y/n) would always be their little sister; the one they grew up with and sheltered all those years. They had to relinquish her to her husband; the boy she had been in love with for years. Although melancholy, Willas knew it had to happen. That Rhaegar would take her back to King’s Landing so that she could become his respectable queen. He just hoped that (y/n) would be happy.


End file.
